


Kings of the Road

by within_a_dream



Category: King of the Road (Brokeback Mountain) - Rufus Wainwright and Teddy Thompson (Song)
Genre: First Kiss, Great Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24345586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: In a boxcar on a hot summer day, two men meet.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10
Collections: Jukebox 2020





	Kings of the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nununununu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/gifts).



> This was such a fun song and great prompts to work off of, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to telm_393 for betaing!

Hank leaned against the open door of the train car, feeling the wind against his face. He whistled, the rush of the train’s motion sweeping it away unheard. The sun was warm, the wind was cool, and he was on his way to Texas to escape the winter chill. The train slowed – must be approaching a town. Sure enough, a few buildings began to spring up alongside the tracks, then a few more, and before Hank knew it, they were rumbling through a trainyard at a crawl.

The train squealed to a stop, and Hank slipped back into the car. He hadn’t seen any cops, but better if no one saw him. He sprawled out across the flour sacks filling the train car, settling in for a night of sleep.

Hank woke up in the dead of night to someone climbing into the train car. He opened his eyes (slowly, slowly, the intruder might not have seen him yet). No flashlight, no weapon, and from what Hank could make out in the moonlight, the man was just as dusty and roadworn as him. A fellow traveler, then. Hank sat up, giving the man a nod.

The man started, then his surprise slid into a grin, and he held his hands up in an apology. "Sorry, friend, didn’t realize this car was occupied."

His voice had that deep Southern drawl Hank had always enjoyed listening to, and his grin was contagious. "There’s room for one more," Hank said, moving his bag to the side. "You heading for Texas?"

"Laredo. You?"

"Lubbock." Hank would have company until he got off, then. That was something, a traveling companion (however temporary) who looked to be a pleasant conversationalist. This would be an entertaining trip.

When Hank woke up, his companion was already awake, fidgeting his hair between his fingers and staring out at the plains.

"Did you sleep well?" Hank asked.

The man turned. "As good as possible in a place like this. Y’know, I never did introduce myself last night. I’m Wilbur Hubbard – friends call me Will."

"Am I a friend, then?" Hank shook Will’s outstretched hand. "I’m Hank."

Will grinned, the same contagious smile Hank remembered from last night. In the sunlight, Hank could see the way his front tooth skewed to the side. A smile with character, his father would have said. "We can be."

Hank didn’t talk about his past much. It made him melancholy. He didn’t miss home – on the road was the happiest he’d been in years – but he missed what his home used to be. There was nothing left for him in Pennsylvania now, but he still missed the streets he’d known and his office at the college. Didn’t miss the snow, though. The best thing about his new life was getting to avoid the winters.

But when Will asked, Hank found he didn’t mind talking. He told Will about the office he’d left behind when the college cut his program, the window that looked out on the main green, how much he’d loved watching the students study on the grass. The memories of his mother’s stories about her travels across the country with her theater troupe that had come back to him as he stood in the apartment he wouldn’t be able to afford much longer, and the boxes of books he’d pawned to earn enough money for a train ticket. Then he’d picked up work (he’d always been good at hard work, and after a decade of teaching it was good to get out of his head), and found out how much more cost-effective hopping trains was.

"You were a professor?" Will whistled. "Never thought I’d meet someone like that in a boxcar."

"After grading enough freshman essays on the use of asides in _Hamlet_ , it’s been a welcome change."

"Wouldn’t mind reading some of those essays." Will smiled, self-effacing. "I read the Shakespeare that the library the next town over from our farm had, but I always felt like I was missing something."

"Oh, reading Shakespeare without the context is like reading in Greek. Everyone misses something. You grew up in the country, then?"

Will had worked on the farm that his daddy had owned, and his daddy’s daddy, going back generations. Then the land dried up and blew away, and Will had had to sell up and get out.

"At least I didn’t have a wife and kids to see to. My daddy would’ve hated to see it sold, but I never did like the place."

"And now here we are, on a train to Texas." Will was single, or at least not married – that shouldn’t have made Hank’s heart jump like it did. It was far too soon to be daydreaming about kissing him.

"Here we are." Will glanced out the door. "We’re almost to Lubbock, I think."

Hank scratched at his neck. "I’ve considered staying until Laredo – "

At the same time, Will said, "You know, you could just come with me – "

They both trailed off, laughing.

"There’s nothing in particular taking me to Lubbock, and I’d hate to leave such good company."

Will grinned again. Every time, it made Hank’s heart skip a beat. "Sharing a room is cheaper, too."

Hank nodded. "I certainly wouldn’t mind saving the money."

Will was tugging at his hair again. It was too long, Hank thought idly. He’d have to offer to trim it, once they reached Laredo. "I have to confess, it’s not just the price I’m thinking about. Apologies for my impertinence - "

Oh, thank God. Hank leaned in to kiss him. Will’s beard scraped against Hank’s face, and Hank would have to offer to shave that too, if Will would have him. He wanted to see what Will’s cheekbones looked like clean shaven, wanted to map all the lines of his face.

Will kissed like he smiled, all loose movements and contagious enthusiasm. Hank pulled him closer, tangling his fingers in Will’s too-long hair. The wind rushing in through the door had tousled it, left it a complete mess, so Hank didn’t have to worry about mussing it up. He liked that, the thought of Will walking into town with windswept hair and no one else knowing that some of those strands out of place were Hank’s mark.

They spent the afternoon like that, kissing and talking and laughing in turns. There was an open road ahead of them, at the end of it a cheap hotel room with a bed just big enough for two and enough work to pay their way. And until then, Hank had a traincar’s roof over his head and warm arms to sleep in. What more could a man ask for?


End file.
